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"Life always offers you a second chance, it's called tomorrow...the past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited, or erased...it can only be accepted."

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Water park nightmare

I don’t know why this memory has been stuck in my head for a
few days…but it has, so I assume that means my subconscious wants it out. This
is one of the first times I’ve really talked about the physical abuse that came
from my father…and it’s stressing me out a little bit to take another jump in
the direction of being completely open. But here we go.

I don’t
remember the occasion, but my dad had set up a weekend at an indoor water park.
It was me, his girlfriend at the time, him, and my friend Melanie. We had a
great first day. Spent all day in the park swimming, going on water slides, and
playing in the arcade. After a long day, we all went to dinner at one of the
restaurants in the resort. At dinner, my dad suggested that my friend call her
parents to check in and tell them goodnight. I reached for my phone and
realized it wasn’t there. I started to panic, and hoped that it was back in the
hotel room. I grabbed a room key, and Melanie and I went back to the room to
look for it. We tore the room apart, looked under the beds, in our stuff from
earlier, all through my purse…but couldn’t find it anywhere. We went to the
arcade and searched everywhere for the phone. Still no luck. Defeated…we went
back to the restaurant where I had the unpleasant experience of having to
explain that I had lost my phone.

My
father…was clearly upset. He pulled me away from table and left my friend and
his girlfriend there to eat. He quietly scolded me the entire way back to the
hotel room…but once the door was shut, he lost it. He was yelling at me…telling
me how irresponsible I was…and how ungrateful. He shoved me around a few times
and when I tried to apologize, he smacked me across the face. Surprised…I shut
up. He continued to yell, pushed me into the sink, into a wall, and I just kept
my mouth shut.

He
continued to work himself up. Getting louder and angrier. I prayed that someone
in a neighboring hotel room would call the front desk concerned…or that my
friend and his girlfriend would come back. But of course they didn’t. I kept
trying to put furniture between me and him when given the opportunity…hoping it
would be enough of a discouragement for him to give up and leave. I went into
the other half of the room, and mistakenly cornered myself. He continued to
scream at me, and finally grabbed my arms, picked me up, and threw me into the
half opened pull out bed. I hit the metal corners of the bed and bounced onto
the floor. I cried out, but didn’t move. I didn’t dare try to get up and
encourage it to happen again.

All of
a sudden he pulls my phone out of his pocket. He’d had it the entire time. He
took it, and snapped it in half in front of my face, called me a few names, and
threw the pieces of the phone at my face. He told me to stand up and explain
myself. I stood up…but didn’t know what to say. I really hadn’t done anything
wrong, and he and I both knew that. I stuttered a few words…not sure what was
better…staying silent, or lying. He didn’t like my response, so he grabbed my
arms again, put his face right in mine and screamed at me again while he shook
me. He finished what he was yelling, and once more, threw me backwards into the
bed. This time as I curled up on the floor, he left the room.

I was
still there when my friend came back to the room. We silently crawled into bed
and I cried myself to sleep before my father and his girlfriend came back for
the night.

To this
day, I don’t remember what happened the next day. That hour of hell is burned
in my brain…but when it comes to anything after it…I can’t remember anything.
At the time it seemed bad…but at the same time, it almost seemed normal. And I
know that’s not healthy or in any way okay…but it just was. I knew it wasn’t
right. I knew it wasn’t something that was supposed to happen. But in some
strange twisted way…I had trained myself to not think twice about it. I wanted
a neighbor to call someone out of concern, but knew that they wouldn’t. I
wanted his girlfriend to come back with my friend to intervene, but I knew she
must have had strict instructions to stay out of the room. And I had accepted
that. I didn’t fight him, I didn’t call for help, I didn’t try to get out. I
just blocked out my brain for that period of time, and knew that eventually it
would stop and things would be okay again.

I know
that’s a big issue these days. People sweep stuff like this under the rug. They
hear a commotion, and they ignore it. They see bruises, and they don’t ask
enough questions. This kind of stuff is more common that anyone realizes…and it
needs to stop.

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About Me

People said I should keep my life experiences to myself because they were "shocking and personal." I said screw that.
Open your mind, read some posts, learn something, accept people's differences.
@ConfessionsofRS

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Disclaimer:

I am not a medical professional and my opinions and personal experiences should not be taken as medical advice. Although I have lived my entire life in the shadow of mental illness and addiction, I am not a professional. If you are involved in an emergency, or need more help you should call 911, or check out the resources section on the right side of the page.